Testing The Water
by tainted.daisy
Summary: Once when Oliver and Lana do a favor for one another's need.
1. Chapter 1

**author's note:**

_Oh hi! you've chosen to read this story! thank you. :) but there are several things you need to know before reading. this is __**fictional and it's a fanfiction**__, which means I borrow Mr. Murphy's characters and continuing or rewriting what has been written in the show. (I'm sorry i just need to write it down, cus you know... some people just yadda yadda yadda) and in that case, I write a complete __**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE**__ about the things that happened in the show._

_If you don't agree/ not comfortable with the things above, please, do yourself a favor and close this tab. if you're willing to jump in, I do hope you enjoy the ride! x_

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**CHAPTER ONE**

BOSTON. AUTUMN, 1964.

Dreary. Boston is dreary that one Monday. It's been raining since this morning and haven't stopped even till nearly dawn. Dark haired man with glasses on is reading a newspaper, sitting on the old and is slightly dusted couch. Nothing in particular really catches his attention, the news is just the same, it's always the same. He brings up the cigarette upon his thin lips— inhaling the nicotine that he obviously knows is bad for his lungs. But poison is always sweet and deadly.

"Excuse me, Dr. Thredson" A voice broke his attention from reading Martin Luther King is awarded the Nobel Prize.

"Yes?" He looks up.

"The Monsignor would like to have a word, before your shift's finished."

"Sure, I'll be there before 7" The Doctor answered the man in a white uniform of the Institute.

Once the inmate's gone, he goes back to his reading but something immediately catches his attention even before he lands his eyes on. It's a tune, softly piano tune that he is so familiar with. He glances up from his newspaper to the person who's sitting few feet across from him, with thin-feminine skillful fingers dancing on the black and white keys. Messy hair, clearly hasn't been combed for a several days, wrinkled cardigan and hospital gown identify the woman must be one of the patients of this mental institution. He never seen her before.

"Chopin" The fingers stop dancing. "That's quite a sad tune," He expects to find the vacant look like most of the patients have he often sees, but never has he stared before at such gentle and warm chocolate orbs from a pair of eyes.

She doesn't smile nor does she shrugs in ignorant, she is just silent, like the rest of the voices in the room. Oliver scoots few inches closer to her and immediately notices the flinching gesture. He licks his lips briefly, approaching her ever so carefully.

"What's your name?" Oliver asks gently, like he always does with every of his patients. "I'm Dr. Thredson," he offers a smile. This trick usually only works for young children he's treated, but where is the harm in trying.

"Lana," she replied. She doesn't know if she ever had done something good, because Sister Jude seemingly doesn't think so. But the smile on Oliver's face gets bigger and it almost wants to make her smile back at him. Almost.

...

Wendy.

The name tastes bitter in her lips. They say when two people are in love, they make each other happy. But what they fail to mention is the two people who are in love also hurt each other. Wendy, the woman whom she loves for the past two years of her life, leaves. Leaves, leaving her in this hell hole of the world. She doesn't care if Sister Jude or Mother Theresa blackmailed her, Lana wouldn't have signed the paper, prisoning the love of her life. But clearly Wendy isn't her. Lana knows Wendy's job as a teacher and reputation are important, but where does the love go? Where does the promise of always be together go? Does it fade away, vanishes into nothing?

Nothing but emptiness.

Like everything in Briarcliff.

"Lana?" Dr. Biggs' voice woke her up from her reverie. "What about Wendy? You still think about her?"

Lana stares at the doctor's piercing blue eyes. To say she doesn't think about Wendy will be a lie. No matter how much she doesn't want to, she can't help the longing in her heart to see the woman once again. Sometimes she sees her in her dreams, but even in dreams, Lana can't reach her. Wendy is just too far away. Lana brings the cigarette upon her lips, drags in the nicotine to fill her lungs, before blowing it out.

"I loathe her." Her once perfectly manicured fingers play with the bud of the deadly thing.

Dr. Biggs moves his pen on the little note he's holding. His scribble is just too messy for her to understand. The first few times she's being treated by him, Lana always tried to understand his thought. But right now, she doesn't even care what another treatment he's going to do to her.

"I'll give a try again for the aversion therapy next week."

"You want me to touch a man's genital again next week?" She looks at him like he just told her a joke.

"I need you to finish the treatment, Lana." He sighs, closing the black note book and her medical record. "Or else, you won't be able to get out of here."

Lana slumps and sighs in defeat. If there was another way to get out of this place without doing aversion conversion therapy she'd do it in a heartbeat. But maybe fate tells a different story. She blows the last smoke before putting it away in the ashtray and walks out of her therapist's room.

...

"Penny for your thought," a deep voice greets her in the common room. It's the doctor from few days ago. He smiles at her, he always smiles. Oliver unbuttons his black trimmed suits before sits down on the couch by the piano bench Lana is sitting on.

"You really love playing piano, do you" he flashes a smile again. If they were at a bar instead of mental institution, Lana would have thought the man was flirting with her. But who would flirt with a lunatic, or so they say about the people in here.

"It's the only thing that is nice about this place," she replies flatly.

"Fair enough," he nods. "Why Chopin?"

Lana shrugs, "I like his piece."

Oliver smiles again. There is something in his smile that always makes Lana wonders, but she too can't totally figure it out. A silent draws in between, but the awkwardness doesn't, and oddly that makes the situation rather strange. Lana looks down to her feet, seeing the white tennis shoes are now stained—unwashed. Her burgundy coloured cardigan is also wrinkled, nothing is pretty about her in this place.

"What did you do before Briarcliff, Lana?"

Lana looks up to him, her eyes glance at his. "I think you already know about that."

He smiles. "I know some of it. But I'd prefer to hear it from you."

"I'm a journalist. What else to know?" Lana shrugs her shoulder again.

"What do you write about?"

"Well, fashion." She hesitates. "But I've moved to crime stories, lately." Lana adds more confidently.

"That's intriguing." Oliver pulls out a pack of cigarette from his pocket. He offers her but Lana politely declines.

"That is, until it leads me here." She mumbles to herself. She doesn't know her curiosity will pay a great deal in her life, that is also ends things with Wendy.

"I know you're not like them."

Lana sees those brown eyes stare into hers. "What am I, Doctor"

He's about to say something before cut it off when an inmate walks by, eyeing the both of them closely. Lana and Oliver looks up at the person and watch him until he passes by.

"I know about Biggs's treatment, and I think both of us know it won't work."

Lana tilts her head. "What are you suggesting?"

"Let's just say, I have an alternate way to get you out"

"You'd help me?" Lana blinks in disbelief. "Why? You're not even my Doctor."

"Because I'll need you to do something that is not just for me or you."

Her brain is screaming to shake it off and walks away to her secluded room. But her heart and curiosity thump it over. There's always something strange yet serene about Oliver that makes Lana doesn't know what to expect.

"I don't trust you." She says bluntly.

"I know you don't." He smiles. "And you don't have to. The question is, do you want to jump in or not, that's up to you Ms. Winters."

"How do I know you're not tricking me?"

"You don't because I'm not." He puts away his cigarette. "Just like what I said before, I offer you this because I'll need something from you too."

"So it's like a win-win situation?"

"Quiet so."

Lana has learnt a long time ago to never believe in men. They are player, untrustworthy but she's so desperate to get out of this hell hole that the yellow light is blurred.

"What's the plan?"

Oliver smirks lightly. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Well you need my help, don't you" Lana wants to wipe off the smirks from his face. Ironically, this only makes his smirks bigger. She fights the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'll let you know on Monday." Oliver gets up from the couch and back to button up his suits. "Until then, Lana" He smiles, softly patting her shoulder.

Lana turns around and watches him walks away through the door of the common room. She wonders if she's doing something right by agreeing with his plan. She barely knows the man, she even isn't sure if whatever is this plan is, going to work.

But Lana is aware that his brief touch lingers till they meet again.

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_I am open to hearing your reviews and constructive criticism. I'd be happy if you'd leave one. :)_

_by the way, the piece is Nocturne Op. 9, no. 1 in B flat. (in case maybe, you'd like to know...)_


	2. Chapter 2

**_hello again! thank you so much for the follow, favourite, and reviews! it means a lot to me. I really _****_hope you enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think, reviews always get me so excited! :) x_**

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**CHAPTER TWO**

"Have a seat, Ms. Winters" Oliver politely pulls out a wooden chair for her, facing his desk. Lana says her thank, straightening her blue dress before sitting on it. Her eyes dart around the room. It's similar to Dr. Biggs's, neat and clean. Few books are tidily laid on the table behind his desk, they all have the word 'neuro' on them.

"Would you like a drink? anything?" He asks.

"Water is fine." Lana replies, biting her lower lip nervously.

She watches as the dark haired man pours some water into what appear to be a whiskey glass. Lana eyed him carefully. She mentally reminds herself she doesn't know what his plan yet. Oliver smiles and put down the glass in front of her. He takes off his black suits, leaving him only with his white shirt.

"What kind of a doctor are you exactly?" The question has been bugging her all night.

"I'm a neurologist. Or brain doctor so people say." He sits down facing her.

"Never knew before" She sips her water.

"Well now you know" That smirk again. She wants to wipe it off.

"So, what's the plan?" Lana looks straight to his eyes.

Oliver brings his hands together, clasp each one to another on the desk. He leans in just few inches closer, as if he's about to whisper something to her.

"We'll manipulate your medical records."

Neither smile nor smirk appears on his face. His eyes point out at hers. It feels weird for her seeing him this close. She almost can see the soft wrinkle on the side of his eyes behind the black rim glasses and the faintest smell of his masculine fragrance from the white collar shirt.

"About my condition?"

Oliver leans back against his chair. "Yes. I know how Biggs works."

"How?" Her eyebrows knit in confusion.

"How are we going to manipulate it?" Lana nods. She braces herself thinking about the worst thing that might happen like the things she needs to do during her aversion therapy.

"You'll need to pretend to like me."

Lana tilts her head, still confused. "You'll need to make people believe there's something going on between us." He sips his drink casually.

"Something like what?"

Oliver shrugs his shoulder, letting her figuring it out in her own. Her eyes questioning his before they widened in realize. It's odd, foolish and might be juvenile but it's also the only one possible thing to do to manipulate her medical records. She almost wants to laugh in irony at the single plan she's about agreeing to do.

"You're not touching me." Lana blurts out straightly, making him chuckle.

"No, Lana" He smiles at her warmly. "We won't do something like your aversion therapy. We'll just need to convince Biggs and the others that there's something going on between you and I. Biggs will ask you questions regarding your feelings and me, and that's your main part to play. He might be a Doctor, but not a very bright one. I'm sure you can handle him." Oliver pulls a pack of cigarette from his pocket. He takes out one and brings it between his thin lips before light it up. "He'll write about your progression and once you get your release from him, not even the head nun can hold you in here."

"What about you? Won't you get into trouble out of it?" Lana squints her eyes, doubting his plan.

"I'll handle it." He grabs the ashtray, brings it closer to him. "Besides, I'm not your doctor, so technically we're not breaking any rules."

"And the thing you need from me?"

Oliver puffs off some smoke, releasing the tense feelings. "Once you're free, I'll need you to write everything, expose it and shut this place down."

"What?" Lana almost thinks she hears him wrong.

"You heard me. I know what the Monsignor has been doing, Sister Jude, and that Nazi doctor he employs. This place is a hell hole, and you know it, Lana."

And at that very moment, for once, Lana dares to dream and feel the freedom on her fingertips. For once, a smile appears from her face, after months she is buried alive by the darkness of this place. And for once, she finds his smile matching hers, without her wanting to wipe it off.

...

Lana stares at the dark, dirty walls in her cell. Sometimes in the worst days, she feels like the walls are moving, leaving no space for her to breathe or think. She'll often cry out but nobody hears, nobody cares until she too doesn't care about the fear or pain anymore. Lana pulls the thin blanket up to her chin, trying to close her eyes. She doesn't want to dream about Wendy again. She wants to close those chapters. It hurts that she has left her, but it hurts even more that Lana still misses her, she misses the little kisses they share, the sweet nothings they whisper, even the fights over silly things.

_Why would someone do that to the ones they love_. She thinks to herself. Maybe some things are just not meant to be. She wipes her tears from her slightly wet cheeks. She doesn't want to cry over her again. She's not one to believe in God, but Lana hopes for a better day tomorrow.

...

"How's your day?" Oliver plops down at the couch beside her. Lana startles for a moment, before noticing the knowing smirk of the doctor's.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" She snaps slightly, after puffs out the smoke of her cigarette.

Oliver chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. He looks at her for a few seconds, studying her face as she brings the half-smoked cigarette upon her plump red lips. The very faint freckles around her nose and under her eyes taint the smooth and pale complexion of her skin.

"What?" She fidgets uncomfortably.

"Nothing" Oliver shrugs and smiles. "I bought you something," He fishes through his briefcase which Lana just noticed it now that he brings it with him. She puts off her cigarette in the ashtray and can't help to peek curiously of what's inside it. "I figured, you must be bored all day being here with the mental and—" He trails of after looking at a person few feet away from them. "- Carl right there has been watching us," He whispers the last thing to her. Lana looks up at his eyes and she can see the playful sparks in his brown orbs behind the glasses he wears. It's silly, and very unlikely but a small laugh escapes her lips that Oliver half shushing her because Carl is walking toward them.

"Hi Carl," Oliver greets the man.

"Dr. Thredson." He greets back, walking passes them.

Lana bites her lower lip while looks down to her feet, hiding her smiling face behind the curtain of her auburn hair.

"He's so easy to fool" Oliver shakes his head and back to fishes through his briefcase again. He pulls out several books. "So which one would you like to read? 'Curious Case of Benjamin Button','Great Gatsby', or 'The Bell Jar'?" He shows them in front of her.

Lana tilts her head, "Wait, how am I going to read them if I don't even have a light in my cell?"

Oliver pulls out his pen flashlights, he grins winningly making Lana shakes her head. "I'll take Fitzgerald's" She takes the two books from his hand and the pen flashlight.

"Alright" He puts back inside the purple book.

"Don't you have a patient to attend?"

"Kit?" He shakes his head. "He's not the killer."

"Really? He killed off his wife."

"Her body's never found. And all Kit's been saying is about little green man, or alien, I don't know. I don't even think he has the gut to fire a gun." Oliver leans back on the couch before grabbing one book from her hand.

Lana's thought darts around, wondering about the killer who, according to what Oliver just explained, still on the loose. She used to feel thrilled, excited, upon hearing such stories. Playing guesses and strategy to expose the essence of a crime, but right now all she wants to do is getting out of this place first. And she realizes she can't do it in her own, as much as she hates to admit it.

"Oliver," She looks at the doctor beside her.

"Yes?" He looks up from the book he's holding.

"How am I going to convince Biggs? I don't even want to do that goddamn therapy anymore." Fear and desperation are written in her face. Lana doesn't think she can stomach another session of having to touch a man's member again without wanting to gag.

Oliver closes the book in his hand. He notices the widened eyes and fear in them. "Just act normal around him. But he needs to see what you and I do, and after that he'll ask you more about it."

"What exactly is, 'you and I do'?" Brown eyes are questioning him.

"This." Oliver looks around and spots a nun is walking nearby. "Stay put, and just look at me." He whispers the words to her. Lana isn't aware of the hand that is now placed on her hip. His face goes inches closer to hers that they almost draw the same breath, leaving her heart races. Oliver can see the flutters of her long, soft eyelashes and her slightly apart lips in surprise. Fears flashes in her eyes of the thought that he's going to kiss her, but he stops just in time when the nun comes approaching them.

"Dr. Thredson" The woman's voice greets them making Oliver pulls away from her, but slowly not immediately. Leaving his presence lingers around her.

"Yes, Sister Therese?" He smiles.

"Your consult is needed now, in Sister Jude's office." Sister Therese says coldly, clearly not amused by the thing she just witnessed.

"Sure," The young doctor is closing his briefcase and smoothing out his suits. He smiles knowingly at Lana who's still flustered of what just happened. "Until then Ms. Winters" His touch brushes against his shoulder before leaves, walking away toward the wooden door.

"Careful whatever you do, Winters." Sister Therese glances down at her and leaves too.

Lana lets out a sigh and leans back over the couch, still processing of what just happened. She closes her eyes for a moment, and even that he's already gone, she can feel Oliver's distinguish scent still lingers around. Lana can guess this all plan is going to be a long ride.


	3. Chapter 3

_**hi guysss! I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. my work has been really crazy for the past two weeks :(. and thank you, really for those who have reviewed this little story. it means a lot to me and helps motives me to continue it. i hope you'll like this third installment! happy reading x **_

...

**CHAPTER THREE**

"You may go now, Kit." He smiles.

Oliver pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration as the young man in front of him nods and walks outside his office. He's getting tired with the little green man and redemption nonsense. Covering his face with both hands, he's leaning back against the chair. Works have consumed the best of him for the last few weeks that sometimes he doesn't feel like getting up in the morning and do the same thing over and over again. He glances at his watch, noticing that it's past 5 pm now. Oliver thinks maybe he'd better go somewhere nice in town.

Tidying his briefcase, his eyes catch an old book inside his drawer. It's crumpled and a little bit wrinkled from being read too many times, the pages are slightly stained from coffee perhaps, he forgets. He doesn't remember either he ever brought the book here, it's one of his favorites during school. A smile immediately appears on his face, as he thinks of a certain someone who might want to share the fondness of the aged thing.

…

"Hey," Oliver sits down on the dark brown wooden chair, facing the woman opposite him.

Full lips form into a smile upon seeing a familiar face. Lana's brown eyes catch the slightly crumpled book in his hands. "I might not know much about dating men, but I am aware that usually they bring flowers to impress girls, not a dusted, wrinkled and old book."

"Who says this is for you" He grins.

"Oh well, so you have another auburn haired, brown eyed lesbian to have a fake affair with. Wouldn't have guessed." She tries to hide it, but his chuckle and grin brings a little smile on her face.

"You're good." Oliver winks playfully which Lana makes a face and grins widely. "Oscar Wilde, do you read any of his works?" He asks.

"Yes," She smiles, reaching one hand out for the book and grab it from his hand. She loves the Irish poet, but Wendy hates him. Lana never understands why. She remembers when she read _The Picture of Dorian Gray _over and over that Wendy would throw it away then kissed her senseless. "It's a collection of his poems? I've never read it."

"You should," He encourages. "One of my favorites."

Thin fingers of hers open the book, flipping through the stained pages. Lana smiles, sure that this is Oliver's favorite book from the crumpled papers she realized, the book has been read too many times. "What's your other favorite?" Her eyes lit up, wanting to get to know his other part that maybe, he hasn't shown. Lana always sees him as someone that is so poised, structured, and quite honestly, it bores her. So perhaps, there is another unread page of him that she hasn't read.

"Beethoven," Oliver answers calmly.

"Really?"

"Yes," He chuckles at seeing her wide grin. "Why?"

"Nothing" Lana looks down and shakes her head. "It's just, Beethoven, then Oscar Wilde, you have a pattern here"

"Are you trying to read me?"

"I have read you, Dr. Thredson." Lana closes the book and looks at him in his eyes. There's something strange in those round brown orbs of his, something lost, something that screams the soul is longed for whatever it misses. She can't pin-point exactly who he is, and this is the first time Lana meets a man she can't quite put a finger on.

"Yeah? What did you see Ms. Winters?" Oliver's lips form into a thin smile.

"You are—". Her later words are cut when an inmate approaching them. He tells Oliver that his consult is needed upstairs. The doctor nods before the inmate walk away, leaving the both of them. "I think psychic me, reading you, has to wait for whatever it is that'll be revealed"

Oliver chuckles, "Keep the book" He says before getting up from the chair.

"Wait Oliver" Lana immediately places her hand over his on the wooden table. "They'll just take it away from me. They found the other two this morning, and your flashlight." She bites her lower lip.

"Lana," Oliver reaches for the old book, he takes it and her hand before placing the book over it. "It's our plan remember? Let them know" He flashes that knowing smile at her and releasing his hold. As he walks past her, Lana touches his shoulder making him turn around facing her once more.

"Would you take me outside? Even just for few minutes?" She bites her lip again nervously. She has been dying to feel the fresh air and sunlight bathing her skin, not just a ray of light from the window she often sees. She's sick of this dreary, dark and cold atmosphere of the mental institution. It's driving her crazy.

"You know, taking you outside, we'll have to go through past those nuns and security"

"We won't go from the front door, I know a way in the back. There's a secret tunnel." Lana says lowly, her eyes lit up in both nervousness and excitement.

"Secret tunnel?" He asks, intrigues by what she's telling him.

"Yes, there's a tunnel that leads to the woods at the back of the building. No one will know, it's closed and hidden by piled up of things."

Oliver glances down at her, noticing she's biting her lip again. "Alright, I'll see what I can do." He put away some of her auburn strands behind her ear, before smiling and walking past her toward the swing door.

One more thing Lana still hasn't able to put her finger on.

As to why his touch always lingers once he leaves.

…

Oliver is finishing in checking some of his patients' charts when he feels a presence by the door of his office. He knows it coming.

"Thredson," The man's voice calls.

Oliver sighs and looks up to his colleague. "What can I help you Dr. Biggs,"

"You know exactly what I'm about to say,"

"Oh yeah?" He closes his drawer. He doesn't get along with the doctor really well. They've worked in a same hospital too before Briarcliff, and Oliver dreads it once he finds he needs to be on the same roof again with him.

"It's been talked around,"

"So," Oliver shrugs his shoulder.

"She's a patient, Thredson. A mental institution's patient." Biggs walks in to his office. Oliver can sense, the psychiatrist almost raises his voice at him.

"Is that how you put it?" Oliver pulls out a pack of cigarette, offering the other doctor. Biggs shakes his head declining his offers, saying the old phrase _it's going to kill you, _pointing at the cigarettes.

"Don't do that." Piercing blue eyes staring at him.

"I do whatever it is I want, Biggs." Oliver lifts his briefcase and is about to leave, when his fellow doctor grabs his one arm, preventing him from taking another step toward the door.

"Don't let your past cloud you." The words are uttered firmly even that he says it low.

"My past is my past. And it's certainly none of your business." He shrugs off Biggs' grip and walks by him.

…

Two days past since the last time they met, Oliver grants Lana's wishes to have a little fresh air outside. Just after breakfast time, he comes approaching her and sneak her out. They hurry their steps to the secret tunnel Lana's been saying about. Lana knows her time and place around, she has been watching for weeks if there are any nuns or inmates walking around at this hour near the tunnel, and she finds no one. Rascal grin is plastered on their faces that it almost feels like sneaking out during physics class in high school to have some smokes and laughs in the lawn.

"Is it locked?" Oliver asks.

Lana flashes him a grin before pulling the handle, "It's never locked"

Closing her eyes, she runs outside passing through the woods with Oliver behind. Her skin tingles from feeling the sun again against it, her lungs inhale the fresh air the nature offers. The smell of pines and ground is tickling her very nose. Lana opens her eyelids and finds the doctor smiles as he's watching her. She's never felt better than at this moment. They walk a little more before settling near a big tree. Lana wastes no time to lay on the ground, against the soft green grass. She closes her eyes again and feels Oliver's present beside her. He sits, relaxing his feet as he too enjoying the

soft breeze, slightly ruffling his once perfectly combed hair. Lana opens her eyes and looks up at him smiling. He watches as those soft long eyelashes flutter open revealing the gleaming brown eyes beneath it, her cheeks turn pink as he can see the faint and little freckles clearer. Her neither chocolate nor red wine colored hair appears lighter from the sun's ray.

"You're odd," She smiles, shaking her head.

"What? Me, odd?" He finds himself chuckling from hearing her blurting out such random words.

"You're staring at me," She throws some grass on his face.

Oliver just smiles as the person in front of him laughs.

"I miss Wendy," Lana's eyes stare blankly at the bluest sky that day. "But sometimes, I'm confused, to whether it's her I'm missing or the memories."

"It's normal."

Lana glanced at the brown haired doctor who's laying beside her. She never feels this relax with any man before, their presence used to intimidate her in any way. But with Oliver, she feels carefree. Maybe because he knows her condition and is fine with it, she doesn't meet someone like him often.

"Have you ever been in love, Oliver?" She asks, her eyes meeting his.

"Poking into my private life, are you?" He grins smugly.

Lana laughs, "I'm a journalist, remember?"

Oliver watches her playful eyes looking at him, eagerly waiting for an answer. He is never one who's drown in his feelings or like those who live to the fullest and living in a moment. He's practical, logic and realistic. But even someone like him has one of those pasts. One of those pasts, that he doesn't want to recall for the heart is always aching when he does.

"I've been in something, but I don't know if that was love or not."

"So there was someone special?"

His thought immediately flies to a certain someone. "Yes, Ms. Winters, there actually_, is_." Oliver smiles.

"That was fun, we should do it again" Lana walks behind him as they enter again to the dreadful institution. She hates it they have to go back, she almost blurts out and begs Oliver to just run away with her, or at least, let her run away, but she couldn't. It'd affect him too if she did, and the doctor has helped her in some way, and trust her enough to bring her outside even for just a few moment.

Oliver chuckles, "We should bring snacks later,"

"Oliver," Lana calls for him, making him turns around to face her. She bites her lower lip, hiding her grin before tiptoe-ing and draws herself inches closer to his face, planting a soft kiss against his right cheek.

"What are you two doing down here," Firm voice they are so familiar with, seeps into the slight darkness that surrounds them.

Oliver is a bit flustered and surprised of what Lana just did, but he finds a grin is plastered on her face once she draws herself back. "You're good," He whispers the words to her and Lana would certainly laugh if they were alone.

Oliver smiles knowingly at her before turning around, facing the person who's oblivious to what actually is happening. "Oh hi Carl," he looks at the man calmly.

**_reviews will be highly appreciated! :)_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hello lovelies! all i can say is thank you Thredsons, **__** 17**__**, and two other guests for reviewing! i'd fedex you all lotsa cookies if i could. **_

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

...

Certain smiles and full red lips are all he can think of as his hands are firmly placed on the steering wheel. Her laugh is ringing, echoing in his mind. _Have I ever felt this way before?_ he questioning himself. No, I don't think so. he never met a woman so captivating before, so addictive that her presence is lingered even when she isn't around. Lana is beautiful, but he thinks everyone can see that. It's something in her that makes him draw himself closer to her. That makes him longs to run his thumb over her lips and capture them between his own. Something in her that makes him want to brand her body with his kisses even though he is aware that she isn't his. And above all, it's the way of how she fills the void in his heart little by little that captures his very heart.

Oliver knows it's going to be a very long way to make her feels the same way as he does to her. But he is anything but a quitter. He's going to make her fall at his feet. He's going to take her and make her his.

…

Daisy.

It simbolizes innocence and purity. He has no idea what actually her favourite flower is and he thinks, giving daisy will be a safe choice. Oliver isn't actually one who brings flowers or chocolate to impress girls, but where's the harm in trying to be different. Besides, he has given her enough books already, even though everytime he does the hospital admission will snatch it away from her.

Eleven white daisies are neatly and beautifuly tied with a yellow ribbon. He bought them at a flower shop near his home. The florist offers him if he wants a special card with it also but he thinks, he doesn't want to scare Lana or anything, so he chooses not to. Holding the bouquet in his hand, Oliver spots the young woman is sitting alone facing the window. He hasn't seen her in almost a week. The other hospital he's working on has kept him busy, and besides he has another something that needs to be taken care of too.

"Lana,"

A smile greets him. Oh how he misses that smile.

"Hey, Oliver"

He shows her the eleven daisies and her smile grows even bigger. Oliver plops down on the couch beside her.

"Are those for me?" Her eyes lit up.

"Well unless there's another patient named Winters, it isn't for you."

Lana sticks her tongue out and takes the flowers from his hand. She loves daisy, the flower reminds her of her childhood life, when everything's still so simple.

"You bring me flowers" She states rather amusingly.

"I do bring you flowers"

"Won't your girlfriend get jealous?"

Oliver laughs, whole heartedly laughs. He leans his arm against the sofa and looks at her. "I'm sure she'll understand."

"What's her name? You never told me"

"Well I don't have the need to" Oliver shrugs his shoulder.

"Did you tell her about me?"

"I tell her about everything"

Lana playfully squint her eyes at him, doubting what he just said. She can't actually picture him coming home from Briarcliff then meeting with his girlfriend, telling her everything about the mental patient he's having a fake affair with. Lana would get jealous if she were that girlfriend, even if she acknowledged that the other woman is a homosexual.

"How's your treatment with Biggs?" It's been almost five weeks since their plan begins and he hopes the psychiatrist doesn't make her continue with the aversion therapy anymore.

"He just asking me questions these days, to be honest, it's getting irritating." She hears him chuckle which makes her do the same. "Well, I know that he's a shrink but can't he just stop asking 'how's your feeling about it, that' or 'does it impulse you Lana'"

"Does he continue with the therapy?"

"No" She shakes her head. "He asked about you and I on the last two sessions"

"He did?" Excitement runs through him, thinking that maybe, his plan is working after all. "What did you say?"

"Not much," She shrugs. Her fingers run through the soft petals of the flowers in her lap. "I can't give him the good stuff too soon can I?"

"Clever," He knows he can count on her.

"Do you think it all will really work out?"

Fear flashes in her eyes. What if the whole plan isn't working, what if in the end, Oliver would get tired and finally leaves her behind. She doesn't have anyone who has faith in her like he does.

"Yes," He can't fail, it's not an option.

Lana smiles at her friend. Her only friend in this cruel world that she never asks for.

"You know, a nun asked me yesterday, if you were my boyfriend" She bites her lip, grinning widely.

"See, that's a start" He laughs.

"I think that nun likes you, she asked me about you a lot! Like the only question involved me was just that if we're dating or not." She rolls her eyes in annoyed.

"What about Sister Jude?"

"She always flashes me anger or irritate look, I don't even do anything!"

"That means it's all get in to her head"

"Hope so" Lana can't wait for the day she steps out of this place. She wonders, if any of her colleagues did ever look for her. After all, she hasn't been presence for months at work. But Lana doesn't have that many close friends anyway, it's all just business and work every time.

"I have to go. I have a consult later." He sees a slight disappointment in her, which is a good thing that she starts to liking and he hopes longs of his presence.

"Oh well" She shrugs. "So long, Doctor."

Oliver smiles, shaking his head. He gets up from the sofa, back to buttoning his trimmed suit. Lana looks up to him and smiles, thanking him for the daisy. Oliver leans in and whispers in her ear faintly.

"Let them wonder," He kisses her cheek and grins playfully before leaving.

…

Scribble, more scribble she notices the psychiatrist makes a mental note on her medical record in his hand. Oh how wish Lana could see clearly what he actually writes.

"I saw Thredson visited you this afternoon," He says without bothering to look away from the papers.

Lana sighs, leaning against the chair. "He did"

"How do you actually feel about him?"

"I like him, he's my friend."

"Friend?" Lana keeps her smile to herself, Dr. Biggs can't surely know what is actually happening between her and Oliver.

"Well," She plays with the hem of her burgundy cardigan to appear nervous. "He's nice. He cares about me, and that's nice."

Biggs writes down some more notes on the paper before finally looking at her in the eyes. "So I take it, his presence, physically, doesn't inflict any forms of discomfort?"

"No," Lana is surprised at how fast she replies and how actually honest her answer is. She used to flinch or irritated when any men would stand too close and invades her personal space. But it's different with Oliver. She never feels so comfortable with opposite sex before, unless when she was ten years old when all her friends in the neighborhood were boys.

"How would you describe your relationship with Dr. Thredson, Lana?" Biggs closes his notes and her medical record. He fixes his glasses and watches her every move carefully. Lana's mind races around what should she says to the shrink? What should she reveals and what should not?

"Would it be odd, Doctor, if I say I feel something I have never felt before?"

"To say that it's odd or not is how you, yourself actually sees it."

"It's just, I've never met someone like him before. And he sees me for who I am, it feels nice."

"Have you experienced any bodily contact with him other than friendly pecks on the cheek?" The doctor blurts out.

Lana shakes her head. A kiss on the cheek is good, but she still doesn't know how the others form of affection would feel. She doesn't even sure if she wants to know about it.

"I just, like him" Her eyes meet him.

"Oh you go deeper than that Lana," He points out. "Just be careful."

And then right there, the three last words that are uttered from his mouth, echoing in her mind.

…

Oliver hears soft faint crying in his bedroom. The cry gets louder as he tries to open his sleepy eyes. He lazily turns on the bed lamp and glances at the clock on the nightstand. It reads 2:30 when will she learn to sleep through, he sighs half mumbling to himself. Getting out of bed, Oliver drags his feet outside his bedroom. The hall is dark, but he sure he knows the space by heart. Two doors after his own bedroom is the usual source of a crying sound in the middle of the night. He has lived to it for almost a year now. How the times has flown by.

"Hello beautiful, what's the matter?" As tired as he is, he still smiles at the person in front of him.

Oliver walks closer to the white crib where the wailing ten months old is crying her lungs out, begging for her father to lift her up. Lucretia, with soft light brown hair, so light that it's almost blonde and doe brown eyes that are now glistened with tear is the most precious thing in his life.

"Hey it's okay, Lux, I'm here. It's all just a bad dream." He kisses the wailing child's red cheek. The infant whined and buries her face in the crook of her father's neck, seeking for warmth. She's still so pure and innocent that sometimes Oliver fears he might taint her with his past. The ache and scar of being abandoned are forever branded in him and he will make sure his daughter won't be faced the same faith as he did. He will make sure she has someone he never has in his life.

Though that once someone is long gone now,

Oliver is anything but tenacious.

"Don't cry Lux, you and Daddy will get a new Mommy soon." He smiles to the darkness that surrounds the nursery. "Maybe sooner than we have always thought."

He will make sure he gets her. No matter what it'll cost.

...

* * *

_**if you think what i just wrote is fluffy then i HAVE FAILED as an author. but be honest, you didn't see that coming lol **_

_**btw, I changed the rate of this fic, cus maybe i'll do something crazy with it. (who knows) and the name is pronounced LOOKS because Lucretia is pronounced LOO-CRE-SHA. god i love that name. **_

**_reviews are always appreciated! :)_**


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